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[the2019nailstory]

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[childactress]

a list of media inspired by, about, or loosely adapted from the life of mara banks:

a number of mid-quality songs by mid-quality bands and the mid-quality ex-boyfriends/lovers of mara's. that subgenre of rock/alt/indie/knockoff fall out boy that tells one-sided stories about attractive but damaged^tm girls with daddy issues who outright ruined the guy's life. accuracy and scathingness vary from song to song. you've heard one or two on the radio before their shelf life was up.

a comedy stand-up routine from one of mara's Big Exes. he never identifies her by name, she's this actress i was with for a while. they're less insulting and more utterly damning by their truthful (sometimes exaggerated for the sake of a laugh) reports of her unstable, mara-typical behavior during their time together, and she becomes a recurring joke throughout. she snuck into a show once, sat and sipped at the far-off bar with a far-off look, and stayed for about ten minutes. when he later landed a deal with netflix to film and release a stand-up special, he didn't include the routine in the material; mara doesn't know if that makes her feel better or worse.

starstuck: the banks story. a lifetime movie released a handful of years after arthur and donna's deaths, capitalizing on the tragedy in the hasty way that lifetime movies do. cheap, gently exploitative, the bad type of campy. it made mara (and her sister) pretty angry at the time, but now on a good day she can watch it with a bottle of wine and laugh at the sheer inaccurate nerve. the character of mara isn't around very much and is laughably depicted as a docile sweetheart rather than the spitfire that even pre-end times mara was.

mr. and mrs. banks. a 2020s biopic that also features young mara only briefly, instead covering her parents' marriage and careers with a thematic focus on their tragic love story in tinseltown. it's not a bad piece of work at all, written by a highly-regarded husband and wife duo. a turning point in mara's life: she possessively pursues and wins the role of her own mother, blonde wigs and all. it's a deeply emotionally invasive experience, obviously. and weird as hell falling in fake love with her own dad('s on-camera imitator). she turns in a hell of a performance and comes out the other end with a better reputation and a renewed if slightly cautious interest in hiring her, having reminded hollywood that hey, this girl can act. her world turns inside out, a psychological reckoning. she shakes off some bad habits, picks up a couple others; she dyes her hair blonde during the press tour - a suggestion from a studio suit to emphasize her natural close resemblance to her mother and thus promote public interest in the film (the americans who still remember the complete banks family unit: that's her now? wow, she looks just like her mom.) sadly, fatefully, she lives a long time seeing her mother in every mirror she passes, which has exactly the effect on her psyche that you think. an actress who came back from the dead even deader. tragedy come full circle. meet the new mara banks. a much, much slower kind of car crash.

[amnakhansalon]

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[womenzonebeautyblog02]

Beauty Bliss: Navigating Makeup Studios Near Me and Nail Salons in Canada

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[multi-fandom-imagine]

[ RIDE ] for the taller muse to give the shorter one a piggyback ride so they don’t have to keep up.

↳Alastor

A/n: I got asked to write more Tol & smol prompts for Alastor / reader so here it is.

You loved your walks with Alastor is what you would say if the man wasn't so fucking tall. You tended to pass out the moment you both got back to his studio due to being so tired thanks so how short your legs were.

It was easy for him with being how tall he was, it was a breeze for him but for you. You had to practically run to keep up with him. You swore he took some pleasure in this, maybe it was due to the fact that he could slaughter any demon's that came near you as you trail behind.

Yet this walk seemed different, you were starting to trail behind him. Your chest heaving but just as you were about to complain you ran into his back. Nearly falling on your ass you had to grasp his jacket to make sure you wouldn't fall.

"Why did you stop?"

"Why do you insist on coming on these walks if you can barely keep up?"

Licking your lips, you were trying to decipher how he was feeling. "Um, because you seem to like it Alastor? And I like it when you're happy. That's what you do for people you like right? Do things you don't like?"

Alastor stiffened, he was still doing his best to get used the affection you gave him. This was still foreign to him but it wasn't bad. Slowly turning to face you, he cleared out his throat as he tucked his nail beneath your chin. "You are just oh so adorable...your little legs remind me of a rabit."

Feeling warmth rush to your cheeks, you shivered from the sound of his voice as you lent into his touch feeling his fingers run through your hair until he yanked you to your feet. "W-what are you doing?"

"You're far too slow! So I am giving you a little ride, you can thank me later little rabbit." The static in his voice held a teasing edge as he helped you settle on his back.

Sighing, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck as Alastor stood. A small squeak escaped your lips as he started to walk. "T-Thank you"

"Oh you don't need to thank me doll, your smile is rather infectious. I could hardly say no to you." He teased giving your leg a squeeze.

While you knew the demon couldn't see your face, you still hid it in the crook of his neck. Not saying anything, you opted to keep your mouth shut. You'll figure out a way to thank him.

Once you got back to his room that is.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

PLEASEEE CAN YOU DO A TOM BLYTH X ACTRESS ASMR FIC. IDK IF YOUVE EVER SEEN THE W MAGAZINE INTERVIEWS WITH CELEBRITIES DOING ASMR BUT ID LOVE TO READ ONE OF TOM AND THE READER BEING ALL CUTE AND WHOLESOME WHILE DOING ASMR AND TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

ASMR chaos || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: you guys continue to blow my mind with the scenarios and prompts you give me 😃 keep em coming!

Warnings: pure fluff!

Wc: 1,010

Divider by @pommecita

Walking into the room, you throw Tom an interested look as the two of you look at the microphones on the the table. As we settled into our seats, the interviewer, a vibrant woman named Lisa, welcomed us with a warm smile. “Today, we’re going to do something a bit different, something fun. Have either of you tried ASMR?” she asked.

“No, we haven’t,” You and Tom exchanged playful glances, both secretly wondering what you had gotten yourselves into. “Well, this will be a first for the both of you then!” Lisa exclaimed. “Absolutely, let’s do it,” Tom replied with a grin.

“I don’t think we’re gonna do that well babe, we’re both loud people,” You squeeze Tom’s arm as he laughs, putting on his headsets as you follow suit.

“Hey guys,” you gently murmur into the microphone, a playful glint in your eyes. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom shoots you a sidelong glance, a charming smile gracing his lips. "And I'm Tom Blyth," he adds with a hushed tone, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.

“And today-“ You move to the next microphone but end up bumping into it creating a loud noise. You cringe at the sharp noise, while Tom, caught off guard, tries to stifle a laugh, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile, dimples forming on your cheeks, “Today we’ll be doing A-” Tom smoothly moved towards the microphone, his voice flowing seamlessly, "S-" you gracefully took your place at the other mic, "M-" a shared moment of anticipation, "R," Tom concluded, and with satisfied glances, you both silently exchanged a high-five.

Your first challenge was the classic apple crunch. Tom took the lead, picking up a shiny red apple. He leaned into the microphone, giving it a thoughtful look before taking a bite. The crisp sound echoed in the studio, and a spontaneous giggle escaped you at the absurdity of the situation.

"Now, your turn," Tom said, handing you the apple with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain composure. As your teeth sunk into the apple, the studio filled with a satisfying series of crunches.

Biggest mistake you made was looking at Tom, mid bite. You automatically screw your eyes shut as you and Tom lose it, having to turn away from the mics as you let out hearty chuckles.

"Don't look at me!" You whisper yell at Tom in a joking matter as he wipes the tears from his eyes, "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help myself," he quietly apologies as you smack his arm gently. The studio was filled not only with the sound of apple crunches but also the infectious sound of both your laughs.

You were then passed a can of coke. Tapping on it with you manicured nails, you move it from microphone to microphone as Tom watches amused. "I'm so bad at opening cans with nails on-" You start but Tom has already taken it, opening it with a satisfying pop near the microphone.

The sound of it fizzing reached you ears as you purse your lips at the sound of it. You take the can back and lean towards your microphone, Tom's hands moving to tuck the stray pieces of hair that had fallen.

You try to contain your laughter as you bring the can up to your lips, sipping it. The noise was surprisingly loud in your earphones as you start quietly laughing. You took another sip, deliberately prolonging the sound for comedic effect, the noise was a combination of tiny slurps and the distinctive hiss of carbonation.

"Here, you try," you pass the can to Tom who takes it with a playful grin. He takes measured sips of it as you slightly squirm in your seat at the loud sound of it in your earphones. You watch as he takes large sips of it.

"I shouldn't have taken too many sips," he groans, setting the can down as a mischievous grin lights up your face as he adds, "I feel like burping now" he places a hand on his stomach.

"is burping considered satisfying in asmr though?" you quip, glancing at the camera crew who try to conceal their amusement. Your eyes return to Tom. "I don't know, I guess we'll find out won't we?" He chuckles, moving to the microphone.

You absolutely lost it as the sound of Tom's burp reaches your ear causing you to rip out your earphones, leaning over in your seat as you laugh out loud. Tom couldn't help but laugh at your reaction as he smacks his knee, creating an even louder sound that fueled both of your laughter.

"I think we've reached peak asmr chaos," Tom manages to say as you compose yourself, sitting up in your seat, "I'd like to formally apologise to everyone watching this-" you say in between your laugh as Tom nudges you playfully.

Your laughter became a recurring theme throughout the interview, making it clear that the genuine camaraderie between Tom and you extended beyond the screen.

A plate of watermelon was then passed to the both of you. Tom, ever the showman, took a big, theatrical bite, causing droplets of juice to splatter across the table causing your eyes to widen as you were mid-bite.

You silently laugh, throwing your head back, "We're so bad at this," Tom shakes his head with a light laugh, wiping a dribble of watermelon juice from his chin.

The next thing the two of you were handed was a bowl of noodles. "Oh no," You whisper, biting your thumb as you eye the crew member placing it in front of the two of you, including two forks.

"I just know this isn't going to end very well," you predicted, taking a fork and loading up a substantial bite of noodles. Tom grinned as he did the same.

Brushing your hair back, you leaned toward the microphone. As the fork approached your mouth, you felt Tom's intense gaze on you. "Don't even look at me," you playfully warned him, your eyes fixed ahead. Tom chuckled, fully aware that locking eyes would trigger another laughing fit.

Chewing on the noodles, you couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan at the flavor. Glancing at Tom, you saw him slurping a noodle, prompting you to cover your mouth to stifle laughter.

Tom slowly opens the packet of chips, the sound filling your ears. He passes you a chip as you both place it in your mouth, the crunch satisfying the both of you.

Your chewing comes to a stop as your eyes slightly widen at the familiar tingling sensation in the back of your throat. You squeeze Tom's arm as he gives you a puzzled look.

You then look at the chip packet, it was chili flavoured. "Oh," Tom whispers, knowing your spice tolerance was incredibly low. "Can I have water please," you start fanning yourself as Tom lets out a chuckle, quickly offering you his bottle of water as you gratefully take it.

You let out a satisfied sigh, your head leaned on Tom's shoulder. "I'm so bad with spice," you reveal, letting out a small giggle as the interview came to an end.

"Well that's it from us," Tom whispers in the microphone, "I hope you guys enjoyed this chaotic interview, I hope it was somewhat satisfying?" You sheepishly grin at the camera as Tom chuckles.

[coco-loco-nut]

die first

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max’s wife is an international superstar, who’s anxieties tend to show up in her songs

Inspired by: die first by Nessa Barret

requests open! masterlist prequel

—————————

“What are you writing, Schatje?” Max asks, sliding onto the piano bench beside you.

“I wrote a song based on my vows,” you tell him, writing down the last couple chords, humming a rhythm to yourself.

Max, ever since I met you, I knew you were special. You’re my fire and my safety, you never try to break me, and you promise to always stay. I promise those same things to you. I don’t want to live without you, I never want to learn how to fall asleep without you, I want to be in love with you forever. You are my forever.

“Play it for me?” he asks when you finish, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You nod, gently pressing the keys, mentally noting the kinks to fix before recording tomorrow. “It’s beautiful, the fans are going to love it, I love it,” Max compliments and you grin at him.

“I’m excited to announce the album and tour, and I’m glad we follow F1 around Europe. I get to spend more of summer with you that way,” you lean on his shoulder. You dedicated the album to him, and your third record is set to be the best selling one yet.

You took the unconventional route and took his last name after marrying him this year, despite having two hit albums and international fame. You still publish under your maiden name, but the name change caused a lot of shock.

You became an international superstar with your first release and it’s only grown since. Despite your relationship with Max spanning most of your music career, the both of you are able to spend a relatively low profile life in Monaco. Everything you record in the studio down the street is sent to your Hollywood label and released from there.

The next few months see you doing press for the surprise drop that was your bestselling third album and hyping the tour. Tour rehearsals fell during training time for Max and the both of you were going nonstop.

“I have to go to bed, Schatje, love you,” Max yawns over Facetime, you wish him goodnight as you stretch for your last show in North America. Tomorrow you jet to Europe to pick up that leg of the tour.

By the time you reach London, your tour has officially lined up with F1, which means your personal box near the stage is full of drivers, who likely are being bombarded with autograph requests. You slip into your black, sparkly bodysuit and matching hells; hair, makeup, and nails perfectly done; and grab your matching microphone before heading to your mark under the stage. The roar of the crowd energized you as the intro video plays.

“Come on London, let’s have some fun,” you say into the mic before smoke fills the stage above you and the trap door opens, the platform beneath you rising you up. You launch into your opening act. Half an hour later, after prancing and dancing and singing around the stage you take a pause to introduce the next act. The crowd cheers loudly before you have a chance to speak. You look around, smiling at everyone even if you can’t see them.

“London, thank you, my name is Y/n Verstappen, that’s my show for tonight,” you tease, the crowd silences. “Nah, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, not when you are one of the best crowds I’ve had on tour,” you tell them, giving them a second to cheer.

“Since you have been such a great host, I wanted to share something special about this next song, something not many people know, but not quite yet. Quick shoutout to the F1 drivers here tonight, including my handsome husband, y’all are cool. But not as cool as everyone else here,” you purposely leave them hanging a little, blowing a kiss in the direction of Max.

“Alright, so, this next song is not only the title of my new album, but I also took parts of my vows and wrote them into the song. I hope you like it,” you say and the crowd cheers as the first chords play behind you.

“Thank you, London! Goodnight!” After the concert, you rush backstage and into Max’s open arms.

“You were incredible, Liefje” Max kisses you. Charles jokingly gags behind you.

“Thank you, Maxie,” you whisper, hugging him tight. Your assistant hands you a towel to put around your neck and a bottle of water which you happily take.

“You had a great show,” the other drivers tell you, all complimenting the show and thanking you for the tickets. You thank them for attending and excuse yourself so you could change. Max reminds them of the post-show dinner and club plans and carries you to your dressing room. You collapse on the couch, as Max chuckles at your dramatics.

“I swear the best part of a show is laying down after,” you groan and Max gently takes off your heels causing you to moan in relief.

“Y/n! People are going to think we are doing things in here,” Max laughs, you wave him off, changing into comfy but club appropriate clothes. Max helps you take off your stage makeup, and redoes your hair as you put a little bit of normal makeup on.

“Ready, Maxie?” you ask, grabbing your purse. It is nice knowing that assistants will take everything back to the hotel for you.

“I promise I will always come back home to you, I know my driving style is agressive, but I won’t make you learn how to fall asleep without me,” Max says, his hands holding your face gently.

“I know, but I will always be scared when you are on the track. You can’t promise nothing will happen, but I know you will always try,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You stay in his embrace for a minute until rejoining half of the paddock. I can be in love forever, if I die first…

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Bad Weather LADS Drabbles

Word count; 837

Warnings; fluff, reader is scared of bad weather

Notes; hey guys! I thought I'd just post something small and I've never tried my hand at drabbles before, so I hope they're actually decent enough. I'm also not sure how long they're supposed to be or if this is classified as a scenario instead? Either way, I felt bad for not writing anything new in my one-shots this week, so I hope a random little drabble will suffice!

Either way, I was just a bit inspired since I have a tad bit of bad weather coming my way (mostly just thunderstorms and high winds, a storm surge from the hurricane but it's not going to come anywhere close), and I was inspired to write since I don't particularly like bad weather. Big things in the sky scare me, to be honest.

Anyway, yall be safe out there if there's any bad weather near yall and I hope you have a good day/night!! 🩷

Sylus

“Hmm?” Sylus would wake up in the middle of the night with you in his arms, trembling from the sound of rain harshly hitting the windows. Wind whistling and whipping while your head was buried in his chest. 

“Kitten?” He would chuckle. “You're a mighty and proud Hunter, but this is what scares you?” 

A flash of light illuminates the room and your nails bite into the skin of his shoulder. 

Sylus would count out-loud how long it took for the lightning to follow behind the thunder. The low timber of his voice helps you calm down with your ear against his chest. 

His arms would tighten around you every time you jump from fear. 

“Calm down now, sweetie. Do you want me to have Mephisto fly out there and check the damage? Or should I have Luke and Kieran go out there and stop the storm?” 

A small caw is echoed through the room– a sign that Mephisto clearly did not want to go outside. 

You would laugh and shake your head. The thought of the twins trying to physically fight the storm, and Mephisto being blown around in the high winds, calms you down to where you can finally fall back asleep. 

Rafayel

“Hey…the studio isn't going to flood or anything right?” You would be worried, having heard on the news that Linkon would be hit with the storm surge coming off a hurricane. The hurricane wouldn't hit Linkon, however you were more worried about tsunamis– especially when you were at Rafayel's studio on Whitesand Bay. 

“It better not.” Rafayel would grumble as he tried to quickly put away any paintings he really cared about. “But if it does, you'll be safe by my side.” 

“That's…very reassuring..” you would say, not feeling very reassured because what could Rafayel do? He couldn't very well tell the raging waters to just stop…or could he?

As you excitedly turn around to ask Rafayel this, he puts his hand up in front of him. “I know what you're going to ask and my answer is no.” 

“Aw..” You would sigh before you'd nervously look out the window, keeping a close eye on the distant tide and the clouds in the sky. 

“Cutie..–” Rafayel tugs on your arm to pull you away from the window. “Seriously, don't look outside. You'll just stress yourself out, Miss Hunter.” 

He mischievously smiles, “Come on, let's go paint something together to pass the time or…I could distract you.”

Xavier 

“Xavier, does that cloud look weird to you or is it just me?” You would squint up at the sky, staring at the large bundle of clouds. “Mm…it's called a wall cloud.” Xavier would say from your couch, fingers tapping against his phone. 

“It usually means thunderstorms are on the way, and it can cause tornadoes.” The silvery-blonde haired man would shrug as if this wasn't a big deal, but it was. A big deal, that is. 

“Xavier, this is seriou–” 

A sharp noise would slip from your lips when a loud boom shakes the whole apartment and the lights go out shortly after. 

“Xav..” You would dart back inside from your place on the balcony and quickly shut the doors, trying to search for him in the dark. 

“Right here, starlight.” 

You would notice a tiny speck of light before a dozen others lit up the room. It almost felt romantic, if it wasn't for the rain pelting the windows and the distant sound of thunder. 

“Come here, we can hide out from the storm together in our own little world.” 

Zayne

“We gonna die–” you would blurt out the moment you began to hear sirens. Bundled up in a blanket on Zayne's living room floor, eyes locked in on the weather report coming from the TV. 

“I– Snow angel…” Zayne can't help but laugh as he returns to the living room with two mugs in hand. “Be careful, it's hot.” He would say as he sets your mug on the table in front of you. 

“Are you not worried at all!?” Your gaze would turn to him in a panic and Zayne would sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“If we die, I'll die with the person I love. That doesn't sound too bad, all things considered.” He admits. 

“You…What–” 

“I think we'll be just fine, angel. You fight wanderers daily, so I didn't expect you'd be this scared of bad weather.” Zayne leans forward and rests one arm over his propped up knee. 

“You know, even though I've known you since we were children, I'm still constantly learning new things about you…” A smile tugs at his lips as he reminisces on the past for a moment. “I hope we survive this ordeal so I can continue to learn more about you in the future.” 

“Zayne, you're not helping!” You would hit his shoulder and try to cover up your reddening face. But you do appreciate the way he was trying to get your mind off of the weather outside. 

[everyonewooeverywhere]

hongjoong thots pls 🫴

hmmmm so many 😔😔

i’ve been an absolute fiend for studio sex with barefaced hongjoong hmmmmn 😖

like fuckkkkk me what is wrong with him???

i wanna fuck the stress out of him so bad. massage his shoulders because he’s really tense and kiss his neck because it makes him feel better.

let him keep working while you suck him off. but he’s so easily distracted (you’re just too good 😌). he’ll tangle a hand in your hair and have his other hand over his mouth trying go keep himself quiet.

he’d probably want you to cockwarm him too if we’re being honest. he says it’s because it’s less distracting and he can still work while being intimate. but you’re an attention whore (or at least i am 😚) so you keep him VERY distracted from work. scratching his scalp with your nails as you play with his hair. softly kissing his jaw and neck and ears. whimpering softly every time your near his ear. you slowly unbutton his shirt a bit too. massaging his chest and kissing his collarbone too.

he doesn’t last very long and throws you onto the couch and rails you from behind 🙂👍

[lif3lessb0dy]

₊˚⊹ ೀ rafayel

╰┈➤ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ headcanon; love language

cw; he needs attention (he kinda won't admit it)

rafayel really likes spending time with you

he loves having you at his studio, could be just chilling after ur work; him doing his thing, you doing yours. he just wants to be near you, it makes him feel good

often searches for various events that may interest you and takes you to them (he's such a sweetie)

if you call at 2am bc u need to talk to him, he will always pick up. as i mentioned before he really likes ur presence so if you need to see him, he will be at ur home as soon as possible. rafayel enjoys every message you send him

he probably won't admit it but he loves when u send him "good morning/goodnight" messages

he really appreciate when you offer going on a date, it makes him feel loved, wanted

„oh, so you were missing me so much that you want to go there with me, huh?” rafayel raised an eyebrow with sly smile

„okay, if you don't want to go I'll go alone” you turned back and smiled cuz you just knew that he's gonna run after you

„nonononono” he grabbed your hand „I mean, i know you really want me to keep you company so im going with you”

money means nothing to him, no matter how expensive your dream items are he will buy them anyway

„puh-lease, what use is money to me if you are not next to me? I want to get this thing for you”

he likes to listen how much you care about him, just make sure you assure him that you won't leave him

he would definitely be touched after you give him flowers but try to act nonchalant

(he probably would cry after that)

holding hands? yes please.

this man loves when you play with his fingers

little silly dates where you paint each other nails ;33

matching things? oh god, this man loves that!

he always wears a tie or suit that matches the color of ur outfit on events where u are together

[synamartia]

[ Featured Artwork © lustylita ] ❀ [ Featured Divider © cafekitsune ]

[ Story © synamartia ] ❀ [ Text Banner created via Text Studio ]

Content Warnings: Alastor x Reader ; Afab!Reader ; No pronouns or Y/N used ; Use of gendered pet names like "good/dirty girl" ; Explicit / MDNI / 18+ ; Sexual situations ; Sex pollen tripe (Love Potion) ; Hematolagnia (blood play) ; Biting ; Dom!Alastor ; Face-sitting ; Dirty talk ; Unprotected sex ; Vaginal penetration ; P in V sex ; Creampie ; Overstimulation ; Alastor is his own CW ; If I missed any, let me know! Word Count: 6,542 Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska ; @lustylita ; @eris-norwega ; @rapturenyx ; @sirens-and-moonflowers ; @swagkittybear ; @l3rittany ; @chibistar45 ; @aceumbrellaheroes ; @pearly-sadness ; @mydickisjuicy ; @daisy-figmund ; @lunaorlunareclipse Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay on this one - we had a couple unexpected issues come up that cut into my editing opportunities ;A; Like Chapter Two, this one is a direct continuation of the previous chapter. I'm gonna try to make the next chapter the end of this particular scene, so we'll be getting into the plot soon! Get ready, 'cause it gets dark right out the gate! Also, I apologize ahead of time for the cut-off point - I know it's gonna leave some of ya'll with blue balls. But I'll make it up to you! I swear! Alastor's dialogue will be in bold red, thoughts in italics red, and Reader's will be in blue. If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, let me know via ask/comment!

"Ah-! Fuck!"

You cried suddenly when he switched from kneading away at your breast to pinching your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and index finger. Your walls clenched tightly around his stiff cock at this, extracting a raspy whine from him. Alastor was making it damn near impossible to keep your eyes open, to focus on him. Every single thing he did, from the perpetual thrusting of his hips right down to the sounds that poured from his mouth had you close to creaming on his cock.

"Hm? You like that?" Alastor asked you, tone mocking as he parroted back your question regarding his ears. A jovial laugh echoed in yours when he saw your pout, your lip jutting forward as he leaned down closer to your chest, his thrusts diligent and relentless in their speed. It was amazing that the desk was still standing in spite of the rough pounding he was giving you. With one hand switching between massaging the spongy flesh of your breast to pinching and twisting its tip, Alastor's mouth attended to the other - teeth grazing the pebbled tissue, his lips wrapping around your erect nipple. Suckling gently, he began to flick his tongue over it a few times shortly before pulling away to place tender kisses to your heated, flushed skin. "Oh, my dear - you're so soft," he whispered, speaking more to himself than you, biting near your sternum hard enough to draw blood - sucking at the few droplets that trickled from the tiny wound seconds later.

Lapping at the small gashes in a soothing manner, he moaned into your skin as beads of the delectable red liquid coated his tongue. "So sweet," he mumbled against the malleable flesh. Alastor just knew your breasts would look positively radiant with bite marks, varying degrees of bruises and hickeys littering your skin - every single magnificent blemish a result of his ministrations. Knowing that he was the one to put them there had him twitching inside you, eager to make the images in his mind a reality.

"And all for me."

Alastor withdrew from your delectably beautiful breast, his lips popping loudly as the suction ceased. He took a moment to admire his work - the skin already beginning to darken where he had been suckling; his saliva that coated the hickey making it shine in the dim light; the red imprint of his hand and crescent shaped indentations of his nails where he unwittingly squeezed a little too hard; the way the surrounding area of your lacerated flesh where he bit you began to redden and swell. A sense of triumph and pride came over him, as he had been right - they did look absolutely radiant like this. It had him wondering what the rest of you would look like with similar markings; bite marks on the insides of your thighs and neck, scratches down your back made by his clawed hands, bruises littered across your chest and abdomen - his thrusts lost their rhythm at the thought of it all.

Soon after, Alastor was drawn from his imagination when he felt your hands in his hair again - only this time, your slender fingers were wrapped around the base of his antlers. How you were able to surprise him so easily, so often with such miniscule actions, he'd never know. "A-Ala- ...! Fuck, fuck, please- ...!" you choked out in between your gasping for air and loud sobs of ecstasy, your eyes fluttering as you fought against your own instincts, to keep them focused on his face. "Don't stop, don't stop, oh my god- ...! Oh fffuuu-!" you begged him, tears welling up in your eyes as you teetered right on the cusp of euphoria. A guttural moan from deep within his chest filled the air at the vice grip you had on both his antlers and his cock, nearly swallowed by the melodious sounds you were making and the steady slaps of skin on skin each time he slammed into you. His eyes shifted to radio dials as he watched the expressions you were making with exultation, basking in the marvelous rhapsodies you were singing for him.

Pressing his lips back against your breast, Alastor started to suck and bite in previously unmarked areas - determined to cover every inch of your silky skin. "Cum for me," he beckoned, control slipping from his fingers once again as he began to lose himself in the rapturous pleasure your body was providing. That was all you needed to hear - the sinful drag of his length within your dripping cunt finally pushing you over the edge, every muscle in your body contracting as the first waves of delicious gratification washed over you, swallowing you whole and claiming your senses. Alastor relished in the way your brows furrowed and your jaw dropped, a silent scream clinging to the back of your throat as you gave yourself over to the electrifying cascades. "Such a beautiful sight," he drawled, voice thick with lust and passion, the near deafening crackles and pops of static filling your ears - it was impossible that a more heavenly sight could exist, he thought.

If he could focus on anything else except the way you were squeezing him so tight, Alastor would be thinking of ways to save this moment, this beauty that you were oh-so-gracious enough to share with him. "... - sstor! A-Al-! Hoh- ohhh-! Mmmah-! Alasss- ...!" you couldn't form any coherent words, having been reduced to a blubbering mess as your walls clamed down on his erect member, the way they so greedily continued to suck him back in with each retraction of his hips, the near painful hold you had on him only serving to heighten the pleasure that accompanied it ten-fold.

"If you keep- ... Nnghh-! -keep squeezing me like that, darling-! Fuuhh-!" he tried to warn you, the futility of his words falling on deaf ears - he was too far gone, his words no longer mattered. Alastor had been so focused on coaxing another climax out of you that he failed to notice how close he was to his own, not until the suffocating grip you had on his cock was hurtling him down into the euphoric pits of bliss - forcing him to empty himself inside you for the second time. "Wait, wait- ...! Oh fuck, I'm-!" he cursed, unable to finish his sentence in time as his balls tightened and his mouth hung open, his breath hitching in his throat. He clenched his eyes shut and bowed his head, the sensations overwhelming him - your core dragging him down further and further with every pulse, every contraction of your muscles as he painted your walls white with his seed.

As you slowly came down from your high, seeing his reaction had you pouncing on the opportunity to give Alastor a little taste of his own medicine. You tightened your hold on his enlarged antlers, knuckles white as you pulled his head back and forced him to look up at you, a devious smirk dancing across your lips. "Eyes on me, dearest," you teased him, your tongue lingering on the last word as his body shook and shivered each time you pumped the velvety bones protruding from his skull - your hold pushing him straight into overstimulation with each stroke, every twist of your hands, your nimble fingers massaging gently over any branches you could reach.

Alastor stared up at you with hooded eyes, lips parted as he panted hard - his carefully curated mask of control and ambiguity faltering for a split second as he collapsed on top of you, his strength leaving his body. The small glimpse this gave you into his inner word had your smile softening into one of complete adoration, watching him rest his cheek on your breast, his smile exhausted and tranquil as he tried to level out his breathing.

Retracting your hands from the now shrinking bone, you laced your fingers into his disheveled crimson tresses, smoothing out the ruffled strands. "Good boy," you praised, letting the tips of your fingers stroke the backs of his hypersensitive ears, earning you a relaxed sigh as he nuzzled into your bosom. The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes - simply basking in the afterglow of your passionate acts and enjoying the silence that followed. It felt so surreal to you, being here with Alastor in such an intimate manner, unable to recall the last time you felt so peaceful, so safe in the arms of another person. If you could, you would have stopped time, if only to stay like this - in this moment for just a little while longer. You didn't want this feeling to disappear, absolutely terrified of what would come once it did.

'No, not now. I refuse to think about that - about him...'

Alastor broke his gaze first, closing his eyes and turning his head to place chaste kisses to your chest - and just like that, the mask had returned to its rightful place, barring you from the most vulnerable sanctuary of his inner world as the roiling waves of his release finally subsided, allowing him to take hold of the reins once more. A sigh of repose made its way past his lips as Alastor moved to stand up straight now, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs. "My, my. Brazen little thing, aren't you?" his question rhetorical, his eyes drifting down your sweat covered figure as he pushed your legs further apart. He stared down at the place where your bodies were joined, pride swelling within his being while he admired the way he stretched you open.

Your walls clung to his shaft mercilessly, refusing to release their tight grip as he slowly retracted his hips until he'd pulled out of you entirely - sticky strings of his seen momentarily keeping you connected. "Fuck," Alastor groaned as he watched the viscous white fluid seep from your quivering hole and roll down your ass, a few beads dripping onto the carpeted floor beneath him, admiring the way your pussy clenched around nothing. With his left hand, he swiped at any drops he could catch and pushed it back inside with his index and middle fingers, pumping his digits slowly, eliciting a strangled whine out of you and causing your thigh to strain against his other hand. A haughty laugh erupted from his chest at your weak attempts to close your legs, removing his fingers from your core and bringing them up to your mouth.

"Open,"

Alastor commanded you, then pushed his fingers past your lips to press flat against your tongue. "So messy," he breathed out as you sucked his digits clean of your mixed fluids, not wanting a single drop to go to waste. Satisfied with your obedience, Alastor withdrew his fingers from your mouth a few moments later and cupped your cheek - brushing his calloused thumb over the remnants of your running mascara and eventually drifting back down to press against your lower lip. In that instance, his ever-present smile softened into one of serenity and contentment, drinking in this moment of complete ataraxy.

He could feel the effects of the Love Potion finally begin to drain from his body, being replaced with a sense of relief and... disappointment. 'Something's not right here,' Alastor realized, noticing that despite having successfully remedied his symptoms, he still very much so desired your company and affection. He rarely experienced emotions of a sexual nature outside his ruts, and he couldn't recall having ever felt romantic attraction to anyone in life or in death, so it was strange that he found himself wanting to drag this out as long as possible. But why? What about you was so different that had him betraying his preferences, yearning for your touch and longing to hear those sweet whispers over and over again until you couldn't speak?

Perhaps Love Potion was more than just a potent aphrodisiac and he simply underestimated the range of effects that spray could have on a person. He never had any reason to learn anything about it before tonight, viewing it strictly as another pointlessly annoying invention by those bandwagon riding hacks, so he was in the dark just as much as you. Or maybe his rut hit him early this time around. Whatever the case, Alastor refused to admit these were his own raw, unfiltered emotions and desires - it was too ridiculous, too comical a notion to be true. Him, the Radio Demon, the great and powerful Alastor, famous for his sadistic brutality, experiencing feelings as asinine and weak as romance? How utterly absurd!

... Unfortunately, the longer it went on, the more he was forced to acknowledge the horrendous possibility that dreadful mixture had only served as a catalyst to something much greater than a simple romp in the hay.

'This won't do,' Alastor thought, knowing he had to uproot these feelings of infatuation as soon as possible - before they grew beyond containment and become a threat of any sort. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was fully aware that it was a foolish decision, to not cut this off at the source immediately, but he couldn't help himself. The brilliance with which your eyes shined and the promises of bliss your body continued to make even now had him second guessing that course of action. But there was still a very real possibility, one much more likely that this was just a passing fancy brought on by the drug, and all he needed to do was get it - get you out of his system. 'Yes, that's all I need to do,' he told himself, deciding that he would indulge in these cravings - and you - for a little while longer.

Impulsively, Alastor leaned down again to give you a sweet kiss. His lips lingered on yours, one hand moving to curl around the back of your neck, the other finding your waist as he tugged you up into a sitting position. What started out as an innocent kiss soon turned more playful when he felt your teeth nipping and tugging on his lip, causing him to pull away with a light-hearted chuckle. "Quite the mischievous little minx, too," he said as he continued to smile down at you, a breathy giggle emerging from your throat in response to his statement. "There's the pot calling the kettle black," you mused, letting your hands rest on his forearms and leaning forward to press your head against his bare chest. "Hmm... I prefer the term 'cheeky monkey', but I suppose mischievous works just as well," he countered, lightly massaging the base of your scalp.

Silence filled the space between you as your exhaustion was quickly catching up, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. You had to stifle yet another yawn, something that did not go unnoticed by Alastor when he pulled you back gently by your hair to see your face better. "Tired? Would you like to stop?" he asked you, his grin widening when he saw the confusion on your face. Alastor looked down at the small space between your bodies, then to your face as a single brow rose - as if he was hinting for you to look down as well. "As enjoyable as that was, I don't think it was enough to rid my body of these pesky symptoms," he blamed that god-awful concoction, adamantly refusing to admit these desires were all his and nothing more. Following Alastor's suggestions, you looked down to see that he was once again fully erect, beads of precum leaking from his head to join with the remnants of your mixed essences. "Damn... What the hell did they put in that potion?" you asked jovially as you looked back up at him, a smile to match his own plastered across your face.

"I've not the slightest clue," Alastor laughed along with you at this predicament you've found yourselves in, glad that you both were now able to make light of the situation your mistake had caused. "But I will most definitely be having a little chat with our friend, Angel, about bringing such paraphernalia into this establishment come morning," he promised, his voice coming out as a growl as Angel's name rolled off his tongue. Alastor wholeheartedly blamed Angel for this chain of events - had he kept to the initial agreement when taking up residence at Hazbin Hotel, the drug never would have been anywhere near your naive self, and he wouldn't be tearing himself apart inside trying to figure out what it is he truly felt for you. Was it a fair judgement? Probably not, but it was of no concern to Alastor.

That was Charlie's job, not his.

"Uh-huh... And will this be a chat, chat, or should I stock up on tissues and ice cream before telling Charlie that her first guest is, ya know-" you ran your finger in a straight line across your neck as a way of saying 'dead'. Your question pulled him from his thoughts and Alastor blinked innocently. "Oh, heaven's no! I'm not going to kill him over something so frivolous as this!" he reassured you, waving a hand in the air to dismiss the idea. He had thought about it, sure - but it would bring more trouble than it was worth. He would never hear the end of it from Charlie and her pet; not to mention the numerous problems that would occur following his butchery of an owned soul, one belonging to a rival Overlord, and of high quality and value as Angel Dust. He could easily handle whatever the Vee's threw at him without breaking a sweat, but he'd rather not invite that kind of trouble to his doorstep just yet, not with the impending Extermination steadfastly approaching.

"He wouldn't die anyway, unless I used angelic steel. I'd rather save myself the headache he would give me after he puts himself back together."

Alastor had to hand it to Angel, though. He was mildly impressed by the resilience of his soul as well as his mind. When there was more than a fifty percent gap in the level of power, usually the owned soul would lose their sense of autonomy and become a mindless drone within the owner's ranks - but not him. Angel not only maintained his sentience after selling his soul, but he also still possessed the will to fight back too - and fight back, he did whenever Val's abuse stepped outside the parameters of their contract, a feat deserving of his praise. He had potential, that one. "Besides, it's far too entertaining to watch him annoy Husker. Poor fellow brings it on himself," he explained and waved away your concerns, soon turning his attention back to the growing ache within his loins.

"Okay, good. It's not really his fault, anyway," you mumbled as you thought of how you were going to get to Angel first - you had to warn him, at least. He may have brought Love Potion into the hotel, but you were the one ignorant enough to spray a previously unknown substance around one of the most feared demons Hell has ever known in recent memory. Angel already had one Overlord breathing down his neck, abusing him at every turn - it would eat you alive if you were the reason a second was added to the mixture. Drawing your attention back to him, Alastor lowered his hands to your hips and pulled you closer, pressing himself against you in an effort to alleviate some of his pain. "But I can think of a couple things that would be far more entertaining than a cat trying to swat away a spider," he purred, static popping loudly as he leaned down to steal another kiss from you, to which you happily returned.

The moment was fleeting as Alastor pulled back and reached behind you to the small vintage radio sitting near the corner of his desk. He pulled the knob to power it up and turned a few dials until smooth jazz began to play from its speakers. Although still mildly irked by your earlier actions - when you covered your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself - he remembered the embarrassment he saw in your eyes. Now that he was able think more clearly on it, he realized how much it truly bothered you to be heard by someone else other than him, and it sent small pangs of guilt all throughout his being. 'How inconsiderate of me,' he thought, cursing himself for not having any restraint despite his warning of the possibilities earlier. Alastor owed you an apology for the way he ignored your feelings in pursuit of his own pleasure, especially when you had been nothing but compassionate and accommodating of his needs.

Taking a step back, Alastor bent over to unlace his shoes and remove his remaining garments that were wrapped around his ankles - allowing you a glimpse of something curious. Initially, you had no idea what it was as you leaned forward, then side to side in an attempt to get a better look at it. "Hmm...?" Alastor hummed when he stood up straight, immediately noting the perplexed expression that overtook your features as he kicked his trousers and briefs to the side. "Something the matter, dear?" he asked you, tilting his head to the side as you pressed your lips into a thin line. You continued to eye the neatly groomed ball of crimson and black fluff for a few seconds before it finally dawned on you what it might have been.

Does... he have a tail?

"Alastor, is that a tail?" you blurted without thinking, immediately slapping both of your hands over your mouth right after. "Oh- that," he said nonchalantly, moving to stand between your legs once more. Your body tensed as you awaited his reaction, certain that you had earned yourself a good scolding for such an impolite question. You hadn't meant to be so bold or outright, but you've long since known that your body and your brain hadn't been on the same page since the moment all of this began. "Yes, it's a tail," Alastor responded with a sigh and turned slightly, swishing the puff of fur side to side a couple times to amuse you before turning back. "I'm sorry, that was rude- ...!?" you tried to apologize, but a surprised squeal interrupted your speech when his sharpened claws sunk into your posterior after he hoisted you up off the desk, your hands shooting up to grab onto his shoulders and legs wrapping around his waist in the process.

"It's alright, darling," Alastor reassured you, spinning around and taking a few long strides to the rarely used bed. "While I'm not particularly fond of it, my tail isn't something that I've ever gone out of my way to hide," he explained, dropping you onto the mattress and climbing on top of you soon after, nestling himself in between your legs as you breathed a sigh of relief - albeit a short-lived one. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, causing your body to tense right back up with each word that spilled from his lips. "Although, you are correct - it was quite rude to ask such a thing," he clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, his pointed teeth nipping at the shell of your ear, then moving down to tug on the lobe. "Perhaps I should give you a lesson in proper etiquette, hm?" Alastor mused, rolling his bare hips against yours, sending shivers up and down your spine, not missing the flash of panic in your eyes when his words finally registered in your brain.

'Shit. Shit, shit, shit- fucking hell, fuck my life!' you thought, trying to reel yourself back in and failing miserably. If this 'lesson' of his was anything like the punishment he had doled out earlier, you knew you were in for a rough night - one that would leave you physically incapable of walking out of his room come morning. "No- ...! Al, no, no... i-it was just a slip of the tongue, I swear!" your pleas had no effect on him though, his lips ghosting over the carotid artery in your neck, then over your collar bone and traveling further down to your breasts. "I'm sorry, please- ...!" you spoke, only to be interrupted by Alastor's stern gaze, looking up at you as he placed butterfly kisses to your bare chest and his teeth grazed over your erect nipple. "I know you are, dear," Alastor started, kissing further down your diaphragm to your navel, not breaking eye contact for even a millisecond. "But if 'sorry' fixed everything, there would be no hell, no demons, and we most definitely would not be in this hotel," he smirked wickedly, knowing that you couldn't argue with the point he had just made - your silence proved as much.

Alastor continued to move south, soon reaching the delicious mound between your thighs, never once thinking it would be this fun, this intoxicating. But, as much as he wanted to devour you and everything you had to offer him, he was on a self-imposed mission now and couldn't let himself get distracted. He would have the chance to indulge himself in a few short moments, anyway. Heated breath fanning over your soaked core, Alastor lightly kissed and nipped at the insides of your thighs, past your knees and down your calves - stopping momentarily for a taste of your blood that was still seeping from your self-inflicted wound. He groaned as the taste of copper coated his tongue, one hand wrapping around your ankle, deft digits unclasping the strap of your heel - repeating the process with the other and discarding both seconds later.

Sighing in defeat, you wiggled your newly freed toes while Alastor began to kiss his way back up your body until he was face to face with you again. "W-well then... what would this lesson entail, exactly?" you asked nervously, resigning yourself over to your fate as you tried to sift through your mixed emotions, unable to differentiate your anxiety from your excitement for the coming lesson. "Ah, ah, ah - patience, my dear," Alastor chuckled darkly at your question, not bothering to answer it as he roughly pressed his lips to yours and pinched one of your pert nipples. "Mmph-phh!" you whined, your body flinching at the pain his digits were causing as he twisted the sensitive flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Alastor pulled back, his teeth dragging your bottom lip with him as far as it would go - releasing it and your pebbled nipple simultaneously a few seconds later.

"On your knees."

Gulping audibly, you moved to sit up and reposition yourself in the center of his bed, eager yet a bit fearful of what he had in store. "O-okay... now what?" Alastor didn't answer your question at first, his figure evaporating into a cloud of black smoke only to reform in the space behind you. You couldn't see what he was doing, feeling the bed shift with his every move, causing your heart to race as you did your best to wait patiently for whatever it was that he had planned. "Now, we're going to play a little game, love," Alastor whispered in your ear, using his knee to force your legs further apart, tracing his lips down the rigid vertebrae of your spine. He placed one final kiss at the small of your back, eventually moving to lie flat on his own and scooting upwards until his face was between your thighs.

Looking down when you felt his antlers scrape across your sensitive skin, you had to cover your mouth with both hands to stile a laugh. "Alastor, what are you doing?" you asked, not expecting to have seen just his head in this position nor the uncharacteristic look of innocence he was giving you - a stark contrast to his previous display of dominance moments ago. "I told you already - we're going to play a game, one that will teach you some proper manners," Alastor explained despite knowing that your question was rhetorical - he knew it must have been an amusing sight, to look down and see his face when you were likely expecting him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he took you in every which way he pleased. He still intended to do exactly that, but not before you finished this game he just now concocted. Hands latching on to your hips, Alastor pulled your lower body down until you could feel his breath against your warmth each time he exhaled, that devilish silver tongue of his licking a single long stripe from your opening up and over your clit, then back down again.

"The rules are simple enough," Alastor began to explain, hands drifting down from your hips to the tops of your thighs and squeezing lightly. "I'll go easy on you, my darling doe. All you have to do is name five basic etiquette rules. If you stop talking, I stop," he paused mid-sentence to lick another stripe up your slick folds, "if you slow down, I slow down," another pause, this time flicking the tip of his tongue over the pink nub in between. "And if you cum before reciting them to me, trust that I won't let you cum again tonight," he promised, smile wide and wicked, a mischievous laugh following his words. You broke out into a cold sweat as he explained, your nerves kicking into overdrive as you tried to remember what the rules were. Most of them were common courtesy and usually taught to everyone during childhood, but with your mind so clouded with lust, you couldn't think of a single one. On the bright side, at least he only wanted you to name five.

"A-and... what if I can't recite any of these rules?" you asked sheepishly, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back your mewls when he dipped his tongue inside your plush walls and swirled all around them, retreating soon after and returning to your clit. He pulled back just enough to speak, inhaling your sweet scent and fighting back the urge to dive right back in - rules be damned. "Hmm... I'll give you one hint. After that, well... You're on your own. Use it wisely, my dear," his voice trailed off, eyes glowing a bright red as you stared at each other.

"Now, shall we begin, my sweet?"

Fuck, this was going to be hard. How the fuck were you supposed to think and form coherent sentences when his ministrations were lighting every single nerve in your body on fire? And you hadn't even begun yet! Alastor was awaiting your signal to start, anticipation and impatience gnawing away at his self-control. "Ooohhh- ohh-kaah- aay-! Let's staa-hahh- arrrt-!" you cried, trying to focus your mind so that you could begin. "Wonderful," he responded shortly before diving back in for another taste of your honey sweet essence. He started by poking and prodding at your slick entrance, then moved up to suck on your clit as you moaned softly with each suckle, each flick over the small cluster of nerves. He could see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours, trying to find the words to recite the first rule of basic etiquette.

"O-okay, uhm... fuck," you whispered. "One rule is- so the first rule, I mean- nnghh!" a harsh suckle from Alastor was making it hard for you to focus on anything except the pleasure he was giving you. "A-always be respectful to others-!" With one rule down, you heard Alastor hum softly into your heated flesh, gasping loudly when he opened his mouth wider and pressed his tongue flat against your delicious mound, making long, firm strokes. "Aaahh-! Another rule i-is... shit, another rule is- ... is, be punctual- hahh! Let someone k-know if you're going to be- fuck! -To be late!" Rule number two, done; three to go. You tried to keep talking, even if it was just a bunch of babbling nonsense. You didn't want him to slow down or stop, but as the coil in your belly tightened rapidly and threatened to snap at any second, you recalled the third rule he had given you:

'And f you cum before reciting them to me, trust that I won't let you cum again tonight.'

Those words rang in your ears as you reluctantly closed your mouth and forced yourself to stop talking, trying to cool yourself off and push back your orgasm. Alastor wasn't pleased by this, but he was the one that set the rules, so he obeyed - stopping his movements and glaring up at you, his nails digging into the fat of your thighs as a warning not to test his already too thin patience. "Go on," he urged you, his right hand retreating from your leg to travel down his own body to his painfully erect cock, precum dripping from his slit and rolling down the length of it to soak the patch of neatly groomed crimson hair at his base. Swallowing hard, you nodded your head and opened your mouth to continue speaking even though you had not yet come down completely. "A-ask for permission, an-nnnghh-! And uhmm- oh fuck! Fuck, c-cover your mouth when you... when you sneeze, or cough- oh my god!" you recited rule number three and four in quick succession, your hands shooting down to twist and tug at his magnificently opulent head of red and black hair, eventually moving to wrap around the base of his antlers, looking for something to ground yourself as you tried to think of one final rule.

"You're doing well, Mon Amour. One more, and then you can let go," Alastor promised you, lazily stroking his hardened length in an effort to alleviate some of the pain, a bead of pre rolling down the length of it and mixing with your combined essences in the space between his shaft and balls. A soft whine escaped his throat when he tightened his grip and began to pump himself with a little more vigor, drool mixed with the delicious nectar spilling from your core trickling down the sides of his face and coating his chin. "Come now, don't keep me waiting. You can do it," he mumbled against your flesh, waiting for you to begin speaking again.

Alastor continued to pump his shaft, gradually gaining speed as you remained silent, panting hard and squeezing his antlers even harder, struggling to fight back your release long enough to finish the game. But the sight beneath you was one to behold, indeed - you couldn't bring yourself down even a smidgen as you admired the way the soft light shone on his disheveled hair, how his hooded eyes spoke volumes on what he was feeling, new branches forming and growing from the main roots of his antlers as control began to slip from his fingertips once more. And just as you stared at him, he stared back. His own eyes traveled from your blissed out expression, pupils blown wide with lust, to the bite marks and hickeys scattered across your neck and collarbone, and further down to the curve of your supple breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath before you continued. "My sweet doe, please..." Now he was the one that was begging, voice thick with seduction and desperation. Had you not been so close to your peak, you would have taken full advantage of the opportunity to dominate him this time around.

You watched him for a couple seconds, listening as his breathing became more ragged and the slick sounds of his hand rapidly pumping his shaft grew louder and louder. Moans soon replaced his huffs and gasps as he pushed himself closer to his climax, almost foregoing his own game and devouring your sweet little cunt as he chased his high - but no. He persevered, pinching his tip suddenly to push back his own release in favor of hearing the last rule he so eagerly waited for you to speak. He didn't have to wait for long, as you finally felt comfortable enough to open your mouth and continue speaking, pressing your drenched core down and grinding slow, harsh circles on his mouth. "A-and the last rule- nnghh oh fuck me, just like that-!" you whispered, grip tightening around his antlers as Alastor growled against your ambrosian heat, his left hand moving down to join the other by cupping his aching balls, kneading and rolling them between his digits, slurping messily and sucking harshly on your clit as he came closer and closer to his release.

"The last rule i-is- hahhh-! A-always... always say please and thank you!" you finished, closing your eyes and throwing your head bad in ecstasy, your hips gyrating, desperately chasing that breath-takingly, blissful release. "Oh my god, fuck- thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank youuu-ahh! Please, keep going, Al-!" you cried as the blinding, white hot euphoria crashed into you at long last, tremors wracking your entire body as you rode out your high, your essence pouring from your cunt and down Alastor's throat, eliciting a graphic, drawn out groan as he vigorously pumped away at his cock - too far gone to care that you had broken the golden rule by looking away from him. Not wanting to cum just yet, Alastor retracted his hands from his aching shaft and grabbed hold of your waist, lifting you slightly to slip out from beneath you.

"You're so good for me! So good," Alastor murmured as he moved to sit on his knees behind you, pushing your body forward until you were on your hands and knees. Grabbing hold of your hips and dragging you closer to him, he didn't waste any time as he guided his throbbing member to your quivering hole, your juices making it easy for him to slip inside with minimal resistance. Setting a brutal pace almost instantly, Alastor held you by the hips as you lowered your upper body until your face was pressed against the heavy duvet, your hands clenching the thick fabric as Alastor pounded away at your overstimulated pussy, his balls slapping loudly against your clit as your walls clamped down on his engorged cock. "Hah- A-Ah! Ala- fuck, yes, just like that! Please don't stop, please don't stop, don't stop!" you babbled, your voice muffled by the blanket as you closed your eyes tightly, riding the aftershocks while he used you for his own gratification.

"Fuuuhh-ckkk!" you barely heard Alastor curse, his voice almost completely drowned out by the rhythmic 'pap! pap! pap!' sound of skin on skin, his thrusts becoming more animalistic with every slap, every plea you cried than bounced off the walls and invaded his senses. His eyes traveled down the length of your arched spine, watching as ripples were sent through the fat of your ass each time his hips made contact, his cock sliding against your pliant walls with ease, his tip bullying your cervix. "Hah! Hah! Fuh- ... uhah! Ala- ... Hah! Ah!" you practically screamed, his thrusts interrupting any attempts to say his name each time he plowed forward.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it- fuck!"

[ Master Post ] ❀ [ Chapter One ] ❀ [ Chapter Two ] ❀ [ Chapter Three ] ❀ [ Chapter Four ] ❀ [ Chapter Five ] Chapter Four Coming Soon~!

[taeminsung]

♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ── love comes again..

pairing ||  bang chan x reader summary || chan finds you again, but this time, doesn't let go. genre/s || love trope. fluff. romance. trope || childhood best friends masterlist || stray kids as love tropes mina’s notes ||  the first chapter of stray kids as love tropes! please enjoy ♡ 

Seeing trainees in the halls of the company building always pulled at Chan’s heartstrings. The memories, both good and bad, flash in his mind. It served as a time that seemed to have hardened him in some respects but in other cases made me incredibly soft when it came to people who supported him during that time, mostly his kids. Yet, he couldn’t help but remember someone whose smile warmed his breaking soul during that time. Still to this day, you crossed his mind, often leaving him wondering if you changed your number or what you were doing these days. It was the late nights when Minho makes sure that everyone is fed that Chan’s mind drifts back to you the most.

˚⁎⁺˳

Chan, your soft voice filled the small space in the studio JYP had given him. Chan hummed in response, pulling his eyes off his computer scene to see you standing at the door, an exhausted look on your face, yet food in your hands. You need to take a break to eat, you smile, the light not meeting your eyes. He knew that you stayed up extremely late trying to nail the choreography for a monthly evaluation. Yet, he also knew that this one didn’t go great for you, while you managed to get the dance, the rap you were asked to do took a hit. This was the part he hated the most. Getting close with people who had the possibility to leave.

Instead of saying anything, he returned the smile of someone who had been his friend since you were both young, motioning for you to come into the space, moving papers on the desk for you to put stuff down. Silence filled the room, with no air of awkwardness, as you both ate the food, Chan looking at his computer every few bites to adjust something. The thing was, he knew that there was always a chance that you would get eliminated as a trainee but there was also something in his chest that was telling him to not put up the walls around his heart for you.

While Chan was nearing debut, having barely dealt with the blow of losing both Minho and Felix, he couldn’t even fathom the thought of losing you too. You were sunshine in the dark clouds that filled his head. A small hope that maybe things will work out. It wasn’t until a week later, when your tradition of bringing him food late at night, didn’t happen that he got nervous. Were you just in the practice room? Taking vocal lessons with Seungmin? Pulling himself out of his studio, he made his way around the building, poking his head into various rooms, having no luck in finding you. It wasn’t until Chan overheard Sana say I still can’t believe they got eliminated to Momo that he just knew without asking, that it was you.

As he made his way back to his studio, he made a small vow to himself to not get close to any of the other trainees, even if he made it through debut, because he couldn’t stand the way his heart was breaking for a third time. Once the door clicked shut, he let himself fall to the floor, burying his face into his knees, and letting the tears fall. A hand landed on his back, moving up and down before a sob rocked his body. He would never forgive himself for not making sure to protect you more.

˚⁎⁺˳

Schedules leading up to MAMA were going to be the death of Chan. He could tell it was also going to be for his members as well. It felt like little things were going to keep going wrong in their rehearsals and the stress was starting to get to them. They just needed one day of things to go right. Just one. Chan knew that getting to rehearse in their stage outfits would help and was relieved when he walked into the practice studio that day to see half the members dressed. Three days left, he reminded himself. Three days then a day of rest for everyone. They could do it. He needed to do it for them.

Struggling to not let his exhaustion show on stage for their ending, he could see Jeongin struggling just the same. Three… two… one…, Chan counted before the lights cut and he reached for his youngest member. Pride swelled in his chest that they were able to pull the performance off and nothing went wrong. Now, all he wanted was to get home, change into his favorite sweats, crawl under the blankets, and not emerge for as long as he possibly could. As he collected his kids and ushered them backstage, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he saw someone who looked strangely like you pass in front of him. There was no way. Right? You’d surely contact him if you knew you both were going to be at MAMA. Yet, he cursed himself because he didn’t even know there was a chance you’d be here.

A million questions seemed to be running through his head because Changbin was now dragging him through the halls to their room backstage so they could get a quick rest before going back to sit with the other idols. Would you not tell him you debuted? It’s not that your friendship ended on bad terms, but Chan was always too nervous to reach out to you after the elimination. Did you blame him for it? Did you hold a grudge against him for making it? Lost in his own world of questions and thoughts of you, he was dragged back into reality when Seungmin asked Minho, Hyung, isn’t that y/n? Chan's eyes were then glued to the monitor as he watched your group perform an amazing piece.

Even after your group was off stage, he couldn’t help but be stuck on the way you performed. All the nerves you used to have in the practice room were gone. Now you were confident in the same way he knew Hyunjin to be confident on stage. What felt like pride again was swelling his chest knowing that you were able to reach your dream. His best friend since childhood making a name on stage. You stepped into your calling and didn’t let the terrible moment in your past slow you down, or so he hoped. Chan hyung, we are going to grab dinner before going back to the dorms. You coming? Han questioned before heading back out to the stage.

The rest of the night went on and all of Chan’s thoughts were consumed by you. How had you been? Were you happy? Did you pick up on composing? The memory of the late nights in the studio, your head resting on his shoulder while he explained what he was doing consumed his vision for a fleeting moment. Had you finished that song you and Han were working on? Did you miss him like he missed you? So caught up in his own mind, he just let the motions of the night carry him through. It wasn’t until he was sitting at the restaurant with Han calling your name that Chan snapped back to reality. His members invited your group out for dinner. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips when you took the empty seat next to his.

Conversations flowed among the many people gathered around, alcohol bottles littering the table in celebration of the awards won and performances completed. Chan listened intently as you explained to Han and Seungmin what happened after you got eliminated from JYP and how you managed to find the current group you were in. The breath he didn’t even know he was holding escaped although a little shaky. The tension seemed to dissipate when you said you didn’t hold any resentment for the past and couldn’t be happier because it let you to where you are now.

It was when you turned to him after everyone started talking again that his skin seemed to feel like it was on fire when you looked at him. I’m so happy to see Minho and Felix back with you, you whispered so only he could hear. You deserved to have this group, a smile pulling at your lips. Maybe it was the way the familiar feeling of your presence calmed him down while also giving him newfound energy. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you, after… well after everything, you continued, I just didn’t know how to tell my best friend that I wasn’t good enough. The smile turning sad as your eyes dropped.

Chan’s hand twitched to reach out to you and tilt your chin up. It didn’t sit well with him that you could ever think you weren’t good enough. For who? For him? Because he knew that you were more than enough to be called his best friend and he would be damned to hear you say otherwise. But we made it, your face tilted up to look at him again. Something about the ‘we’ in your sentence broke something in his chest. That’s all he ever wanted. For you both to make it and settle into your dreams. Maybe it was the way he now viewed you, not the little one who would follow him around, but the confident person that you had grown up to become. In his mind, he reached out to caress your cheek, but in reality, he settled for You’ll always be enough for me.

Both of you were pulling back into the chaos of the conversation between the two groups as the debate on best dramas was in full swing. As Chan saw you smile wide at the mention of a show, it dawned on him what the feeling in his chest had been since he saw you in passing backstage. This time away from you, but always thinking of you, gave him the space to understand that he didn’t want anyone else to fill the space next to him where you used to be. No. What he wanted was for you to be back in the space. Maybe a little closer this time. The crushing weight of the realization that he was in love with you hit him before he even blinked.

Adjusting his position, he moved his leg so that it would be pressed against yours as he moved his chair slightly closer to you as well. His eyes noticed that your hands sat in your lap and before he could even think if it was a good idea, his hand was extending to lacing his fingers with yours. Daring a glance at your face, he could see the pink that dusted your cheeks and the way your smile slowly grew, eyes focused on your intertwined hands. When you didn’t pull away, joining in another conversation with Hyunjin instead, he knew that maybe you shared the same feelings as him. All he knew was at the end of tonight, he would make sure he had your number and would never let you go from his side again.

All the time for catching up could be spent tomorrow in the comfort of either of your places, filling each other in on everything that was missed, including the feelings that were already taking over.

from mina with love ♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ── thank you for reading! ♡ tag list || @orchid-mantis-petals; @i-dontevenknowman; @deadcrow-donteat

[womenzonebeautyblog02]

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[honeekyuu]

squeeze. [sakusa kiyoomi x reader] satin black intros.

place of (homosexual) business

masterlist.

[playlist]. satin black || vibes

a/n. im completely totally normal about this au. completely normal.

warnings: me.

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

satin black moved into its current location about three weeks ago, and theyve tortured brews abridged ever since

they were at a smaller location for 3 years prior, but they outgrew it when each of them independently went a little viral online for their work

everyone has a license to both pierce and tattoo, but iwa/akaashi stick to tattooing and suna sticks to piercing

akaashi’s the only one who went to art school

iwa taught himself on youtube

suna and sakusa taught themselves by practicing on each other – all of suna’s tattoos are by sakusa and all of sakusa’s piercings are by suna exclusively

it went a little like this the first time around: "i can do this. i dont need instructions-" "ARE YOU FUCKING SURE ABOUT THAT!!!!"

akaashi specializes in black and grey tattoos and iwa does color; sakusa does both but prefers black and grey

iwa’s best known for watercolor style art and akaashi’s best known for geometric art 

sakusa’s best known for japanese style art

suna's keeps trying to sell people on new and strange places to get pierced. this is dangerous and sakusa has banned him from doing it 8 times already.

hes actually so good at his job, hes just an idiot

theyre total assholes who chain smoke in the shop and swear at each other from across the room

the shop motto is "make them horny until they come back" and boy does it work

every single one of their clients transferred across the city with them when they moved

sakusa doesn't actually take new clients anymore, he just keeps up with regulars. he's very adamant about this

he is most often found in his office, which is also his private studio

the shop playlist consists of music added by sakusa, suna, and iwa -- they tried to get akaashi in on it but he got apple music just to spite them and wears his headphones when he works

suna can and WILL add the most unhinged shit to the playlist. there is a near-daily incident where sakusa tries to skip past suna's songs but suna keeps going back to them just to be annoying

this results in the shop being filled with the nonstop sound of skipping songs and sakusa screaming at him from his office

iwa usually joins in too because he has a short temper

akaashi always has to put his gun down and dissociate, because he can feel himself about to fuck up his lines with how hard his eye is twitching

akaashi has the least tattoos but that’s really not saying much; they have a board in sakusa’s office with the running count for each of them

everyone who comes in for the first time always sees two tattoo artists: iwa, who sits in the corner chain smoking and frowning and generally looking like he could kill you; and akaashi, who is generally polite and looks way less scary than iwa.

and they always choose akaashi, because he looks nice

he is not fucking nice. he is mean as shit. iwaizumi is the nicest one in that shop.

iwa so often is the type to roughly grumble "oh, yeah we can take a break -- this placement always hurts like a bitch. i need a smoke anyway" (hes already smoking).

akaashi keiji is the type to whisper "oh, did that hurt? pussy." and go in even more.

he is mean as shit and everyone makes this mistake.

sakusa and suna met in high school -- they would skip class together and sit behind the school smoking and blasting bass boosted music

theres something about running from campus security every day that bonds two people into brotherhood

theyre like,,,, fucking carbon copies of each other, these two -- two tall as fuck, tatted up, pierced up dudes with matching judgmental expressions and chipped black nail polish, standing outside the shop smoking, talking shit, and glaring at anyone who comes out of the stupid ass 3-in-1 shop next door

they met iwa and akaashi during their apprenticeship. they really didnt get along at first, but it takes a very unique combination of crazy to be able to open the kind of tattoo shop sakusa wanted.

and he had his combination of crazy right there in front of him.

iwa’s the most normal one and just wants to be akaashi’s friend. thats all he wants. he wants to make his silly little money and be akaashis silly little friend. 

iwa is the only one akaashi trusts for literally anything related to the shop but he wont ever say that

it's so painfully obvious that suna named their group chat. sakusa stopped trying to change it back years ago.

taglist = [open]

@mollyrolls @nectardaddy @onlytendoguesses @scinclaitnoir @marsoverthestars

@bookskeepers @choerry-picking @siheez @introvertsince2003 @eggyrocks

@atrashsith @beckixwsm @kakeru-eem @atsumusc0ck @seroh

@reignsaway @a-little-pebbl @bakingcuriosity @dondoncool @corvid007

@asthmaticcchoeee @liliumaraneae @savemebrazilhinata @whydoyoucare866

she put my hand up on her throat and told me // squeeze that shiiii-

squeeze [ghostemane].